


Homestuck Retelling

by ShojiScreen



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Canon Rewrite, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, M/M, Multi, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Retelling, Rewrite, Romance, SBURB, Ship change, assume all trolls are, in fact, kanaya is bi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-05-08 18:55:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14700195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShojiScreen/pseuds/ShojiScreen
Summary: Hello, and welcome to Homestuck Retold! I am embarking on the bold adventure to retell all of Homestuck, with small personality changes. However, as the story progresses, the changes will snowball. Please be patient with chapter updates, as school is a bitch. I'll try to update every two weeks. The ship tags are messy as I couldn't get emojis to work... To clarify, any human/human ship is a moiraillegiance. John and Kanaya are black, Rose and Vriska are black, etc.Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie





	1. The Beginning of the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to Homestuck Retold! I am embarking on the bold adventure to retell all of Homestuck, with small personality changes. However, as the story progresses, the changes will snowball. Please be patient with chapter updates, as school is a bitch. I'll try to update every two weeks. The ship tags are messy as I couldn't get emojis to work... To clarify, any human/human ship is a moiraillegiance. John and Kanaya are black, Rose and Vriska are black, etc.
> 
> Disclaimer: Homestuck belongs to Andrew Hussie

A young man stands in his bedroom. It just so happens that today, the 13th of April, is this young man’s birthday. As this is a thirteen year old young man, he has a name, a name that he’s pretty fond of. It’s not Zoosmell Pooplord, at least.

Your name is JOHN EGBERT. As was previously mentioned it’s your birthday. A bunch of dumb CAKES are scattered around; your DAD always goes overboard with this stuff. You have a wide variety of interests. You have a passion for REALLY TERRIBLE MOVIES, something your BEST FRIEND likes to joke about, but you know she likes them too deep down. You like to program computers but you AREN’T VERY GOOD AT IT. You have a fondness for PARANORMAL LORE, and you have been reading more about TERRIBLE MONSTERS since your friend got you into it. You aspire to be a MAGICIAN one day, and your super awesome MAGIC CHEST reflects this. 

Speaking of magic, you have a strange desire to loot your awesome magic chest. Maybe you’ll be able to get your Dad with an epic prank or something. Yeah, that’ll show him who’s boss ‘round these parts. You open your magic chest, captchaloguing the smoke pellets and the dumb fake arms. Sassacre says they make everything funnier, but you’re not really sure if that’s the case. I mean, the only thing you can really think of doing with them that’s funny is some kinda gag where you have no arms, which is fucking absurd! You shake your head at the very thought. You shoot a look at your calendar. Only three days before your birthday, there is another marked space. The release of the SBURB Beta was three days ago, and you could not be more hyped. You glance out your window anxiously; that god damned beta was supposed to arrive two days ago… You turn from the window with a sigh. There’s no use contemplating that, you have better things to do! Well, no you don’t, but you don’t really want to think about it anyways. You hear a notification from your computer, and are glad to be given an excuse not to think about the sickeningly slow speed of your mail.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:13 --

 

TT: Hello John.  
TT: How has your birthday been?  
EB: good!  
EB: i got a little monsters poster but i haven’t put it up yet. I’m totally gonna watch that movie again, the applejuice scene was hilarious.  
TT: Yes, truly Howie Mandel is a comedic genius.  
TT: I must thank you again for introducing me to that movie, it has revolutionized my life to be certain.  
EB: yeah of course it did.  
EB: howie mandel pees in some kid’s apple juice, how could it not revolutionize your life?  
TT: Yes, of course.   
TT: Your questionable taste in movies aside, has your beta arrived yet?  
TT: I have been speaking to TG about playing it, but he has been… reticent, to say the least.  
EB: uhhh, yeah! He’s totally reticent! what a reticent dummy!  
TT: Reticent means secretive or unwilling to talk, John.  
EB: oh.  
EB: why do you always use such long words anyways?  
EB: it’s not like i’m some college professor that’s gonna judge you if you talk like one of us commoners!  
TT: I enjoy using a more refined vocabulary.   
TT: It is simply my preference, John.  
TT: Do you dislike it?  
EB: no its cool!  
EB: you sound like some old-timey lady from one of those boring romance books!  
EB: i’m just saying you can talk more casually sometimes!  
TT: Yes, I know. The sentiment is appreciated. To get back on topic…  
EB: oh, no! it hasn’t gotten here yet. so lame,  
EB: mail takes way too long.  
TT: Yes, it did take some time to arrive here as well.   
TT: I am sure it will arrive soon.   
TT: Message me when it does, yes?  
EB: yeah, okay!  
EB: oh TG’s messaging me.  
EB: ttyl  
TT: Yes. Talk to you later.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:20 -- 

Ugh, you are just super popular today, huh? First TT and now TG, everyone just wants to talk your ear off today! Well, being the good friend you are, you’ll oblige their talky needs. 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:18 -- 

TG: hey so what kind of insane loot did you rake in today  
EB: i got this super awesome little monsters poster! I think i’m gonna watch that apple juice scene again, it’s so funny.  
TG: aw shit dude that’s such a coincidence  
TG: i just found this random unopened container of aj in the closet it’s like fucking christmas up in here  
EB: ok thats cool, but i just have one question and then a word of advice. Have you ever seen a movie called little monsters starring howie mandel and fred savage?  
TG: dude  
TG: the seal is unbroken  
TG: are you saying somebody pissed in my aj at the factory  
EB: i’m just saying  
EB: monsters have all these crazy powers dude, some of these monsters are nuts!  
TG: dude monsters aren’t real  
TG: have you been reading TT’s lame-ass books  
EB: no, what?  
EB: me reading?  
EB: never.  
TG: dude youre so transparent  
EB: okay fine!  
EB: i have been reading her books a little!  
EB: they’re cool, get off my back!  
TG: dude no they aren’t  
TG: you know it and so do i  
TG: besides are you saying howie mandel is as poweful as c’thulu or whatever  
EB: yes!  
TG: youre delusional man  
TG: so did you get that dumb beta yet  
EB: no, mail is way too slow!  
EB: what about you?  
TG: tch man of course i did  
TG: got two copies of that shit  
TG: not that i’m gonna be playing it or anything  
TG: did you see how game bro slammed that shit????  
EB: game bro is…. Uh….. putrid and unworthy of critique!  
EB: hah!  
TG: TT does it better dude  
TG: stick to your own thing  
EB: look, game bro is a joke man, and you know it!  
TG: yeah  
TG: why don’t you go check your mail maybe it’s there  
EB: alright.  
EB: brb.

You walk over to your window hopefully. You glance down at your mailbox and- god damn it! Your dad is home, and the red lever thingy is down! He must have beaten you to the mail before you could even notice it had arrived! What a fiend! Now you have no chance of getting to it; he’ll monopolize the rest of your day if he gets the chance! You stomp back over to your computer. 

EB: my dad got to it first!!!  
EB: ugh.   
TG: just go get it  
EB: no dude!  
EB: he’s just gonna make me eat some dumb cakes or something!  
EB: oh, now one of those trolls is pestering me!  
EB: how did they fucking find my new chumhandle?  
TG: dude chill  
TG: just ignore it  
TG: it’s no big  
EB: im so stressed right now!   
EB: and i can’t even captchalogue anything because it would launch cake everywhere!  
TG: dude what modus do you have  
EB: uhh, stack i think.   
TG: lame  
TG: how many cards do you have?  
EB: 4…  
TG: dude you need to bone up on your data structures  
TG: do you even have a specibus?

You look around, searching for a weapon quickly. You grab the hammer on your desk, allocating it to your specibus. You turn back to our computer. 

EB: yeah, of course!  
TG: oh  
TG: what is it  
EB: only the best one, hammerkind!  
TG: pffff  
TG: of course dude  
TG: i figured it would be something cool when you were all hyped to respond but then i realized i was talking to john motherfucking egbert  
EB: hey!  
EB: hammers are cool!  
EB: i bet TT would say so!  
TG: bro tt is so biased you don’t even know  
TG: speaking of can you get her off my back  
TG: she’s been asking me to play this dumb game all day  
TG: she’s macking on me hard dude  
TG: don’t be jealous  
EB: oh yeah im so jealous!  
EB: TT is basically my dream girl!  
TG: yeah i know  
EB: lol jk!  
EB: you got pranked  
TG: oh shit did i  
TG: look just make her stop bothering me  
TG: you have more sway than me  
TG: and maybe answer the troll idk  
TG: troll them back  
EB: ew i don’t wanna talk to one of those guys!  
TG: whatever man  
\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:27 -- 

You look at the troll pestering you with disgust. There is just no way you will be talking to this weirdo today! No. Way. You stand up from your computer; TG can handle TT for a few more minutes while you attempt to retrieve this beta. You look around your room for any daring disguises, but sadly don’t see much… well, there is the beaglepuss glasses. No way that could work, right? No way. You find your hand reaching for them. Of course this’ll work, you’re a master prankster! Your dad’ll never see it coming! Of course, this is just the first step in this disguise, you need something more. You quietly exit your room, resolving to find something else on the way. You look around, attempting to ignore the horrid clown paintings everywhere. God, these things really do mess with your head. You keep walking, not acknowledging them.You pad down the stairs, looking around the living room. You grin when you spot your dad’s pipe. The perfect addition to this disguise! You pop it in your mouth, ignoring the horrible taste.The sacrifices you make for pranks are truly immense. You wince at the smell of the baking in the kitchen. Your dad must be in there, baking yet another cake. You decide that maybe he left the packages in the car! Seems likely! This isn’t an excuse to get away from the dreaded cakes! 

You walk over to your dad’s car. You look through the window, and see a green package and a slip of paper. You attempt to yank on the door handle, but find it locked. You sigh. Of course this’d happen. Better go get the car keys from Dad! Easier said than done, of course, but you know you can do it! You’re a master prankster and a master spy! 

You stealthily move towards the kitchen, where you know your dad will be. Sure enough, you smell the cakes and see his telltale hat. You tiptoe into the room, attempting to be stealthy. You’re about a foot away when your Dad spins around to look at you. He dramatically points, immediately discerning that you are, indeed, his beloved son John! Damn and blast! He’s too smart! You attempt to grab the envelope anyways, but he just pushes your hand away. He attempts to hand you a cake. You enter your strifing position. 

STRIFE!!!! 

Your dad opens by attempting to hand you the cake. You jump back, shaking your head frantically. You attempt to fake him out with your hammer, but he doesn’t even flinch. He flicks your head, sending you backwards. You throw the smoke pellets dramatically! ...Nothing happens. Well crap! You forgot they expired! You look through your sylladex. All you have now is two cakes and a towel! Your dad advances on you with a Sassacre tome in one hand and a cake in the other. You sigh, accepting the cake and sending the sassacre text onto the smoke pellets. Thank you Sassacre, you almost shout. You run over to the envelope and package on the counter as smoke fills the room, capitalizing on your opportunity. You captchalogue them, not worrying about the cakes that fly out of your sylladex. You sprint upstairs as quick as you can. You took the prankster’s gambit this time, Dad! Hah! You plop down at your computer. 

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] at 16:41 --  
EB: hey tg.  
EB: you there?  
EB: can you believe how annoying tt is?  
TT: Oh dear, John, it would appear you have messaged the wrong person again.  
TT: How unfortunate, now I must see my best friend’s real opinions of me.  
TT: Woe is me, my best friend secretly thinks I’m annoying!  
TT: How shall I go on?  
EB: gee, tough crowd huh?  
EB: guess i’ll take the hint and get new material!  
TT: Yes, do. Some of your pranks have been slightly amusing, don’t ruin your reputation now.  
EB: oh please!  
EB: i’m the prank master dude!  
EB: my pranks are hilarious!  
EB: remember that time i sent you an empty box with another box inside?  
TT: Yes, except I asked you for that. It was to verify your identity, remember? It was not a prank.  
EB: oh please TT, it was totally a prank!  
EB: and you got pranked so hard!  
TT: Yes, indeed.  
TT: Have you fetched your beta?  
EB: yeah! Of course i did!  
EB: i had to endure weird creepy clowns for you!  
EB: the things i do for friendship…  
TT: I kinda liked you better when you didn’t use angsty sarcasm to convey points.  
TT: Not that I particularly have room to talk, mind you.   
EB: kinda?  
EB: tentacleTherapist said kinda?  
EB: this just in: meteors are about to strike the earth, the end times are upon us, TT used a shortening of a word!  
TT: Would you quite prefer if I used a more dignified, Websteresque vocabulary when attempting to make casual conversation with you, Johnathan?  
EB: jeez sorry!  
EB: i was just joking around!  
TT: Yes, I know.  
TT: Are you ready to play?  
EB: yeah, just hold on.  
EB: gonna tell this troll to go away very impolitely!  
TT: You go John.  
TT: Show them who’s boss.

\-- grimAuxilliatrix [GA] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] at 16:44 --  
GA: Hello  
GA: Is This The John Human That I Am Currently Speaking To  
GA: Question Mark  
EB: did you just type question mark?  
GA: Yes  
GA: Why  
GA: Question Mark  
EB: stop that!  
EB: it looks dumb!  
GA: Oh  
GA: I Think It Looks Distinguished  
GA: Why Don’t You Capitalize Things  
EB: don’t you dare  
GA: Question Mark  
EB: damn it!  
EB: look, you’re a troll, right?  
GA: Yes  
EB: then go away!  
EB: i don’t want to be trolled by some weirdo with a broken shift key or whatever!  
GA: As Far As I Know None Of My Keys Are Broken Currently  
GA: Why Would You Say That  
\-- ectoBiologist [EB] blocked grimAuxilliatrix [GA] --  
GA: Rude  
EB: what?????  
EB: how did you do that?  
GA: Our Technology Is More Advanced Than Yours  
EB: what, now you’re some kinda alien?  
EB: that would be kinda cool if it was true and you weren’t a troll!  
GA: Yes I Am A Troll  
GA: Why Do You Keep Repeating That Phrase  
GA: Question Mark  
EB: you talk kinda like my friend, you know that?  
GA: Oh  
GA: Is That A Good Thing  
EB: i don’t know, not when it’s about you!  
GA: You Seem Like You Don’t Know Many Things  
EB: are you calling me dumb?  
GA: That Is A Possibility  
GA: I Mean You Have Not Exactly Given Me A Good First Impression  
EB: well, at least i’m not some snooty troll!  
EB: look, i’m sorry for being mean  
GA: I Am Not  
EB: can you just leave me alone, please?  
GA: Fine  
GA: I Suppose I Can Troll You Later In Your Timeline  
EB: good, whatever that means, i’m sure it’s good.

\-- ectoBiologist [EB] has ceased pestering grimAuxilliatrix [GA] at 16:47 -- 

That was weird, and slightly infuriating. Who types question mark? That’s what the key is for! And they called you dumb. 

EB: alright i dealt with that!  
EB: that troll was kinda stuck-up if you ask me  
TT: Oh?  
TT: Did they manage to get under your skin?  
EB: no that’s the weird thing!  
EB: they just typed weird and called me dumb but they weren’t actually mean!  
TT: That sounds slightly mean John.  
EB: oh please.   
EB: you call me dumb!  
TT: Yes, when I am attempting to persuade you to read.  
TT: Besides, I find your specific brand of dumb endearing.  
EB: well okay then  
EB: thanks, I think.   
TT: You are more than welcome.  
TT: Shall we play? I believe I have been patient long enough.  
TT: Would you like to be server or client?  
EB: what? server?

You look down at your disk. It says client on it. You check in the envelope, but don’t see another disk. 

EB: i only have client!!!  
TT: Oh. Well, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.  
TT: I will just have to be the server. 

You put your disc into your computer, excited. You finally get to play the beta you’ve done all this work for! After a few seconds, a loading screen pops up. It’s kinda surreal, in your opinion. All these weird flashing shapes and colors. It hurts your eyes a bit, but you bear through it. Eventually, your screen goes black. After a few seconds, the game minimizing. Well, shit. You open pesterchum again. 

EB: the game crashed!  
TT: Did it?  
TT: It’s working fine on my end.  
TT: I’m seeing some weird, unattractive person on my screen.  
TT: He’s in a room with a bunch of dumb movie posters.  
TT: He has messy hair and buck teeth.  
EB: hey!  
EB: that’s mean!  
TT: I wasn’t finished.  
EB: oh, wanna make more jokes?  
EB: go right ahead!  
TT: Even despite all of these qualities, I am sure this nerd is a good and loyal friend, and an all around good person.  
TT: :)  
EB: d’aww….  
EB: you even used an emoticon!  
EB: :]  
EB: wait, i’m unattractive?  
TT: Well, I may have exaggerated that for comedic purposes.  
TT: Any girl would be lucky to have you.  
EB: aww, thanks!  
TT: Or guy.  
TT: I won’t assume how you swing.  
EB: rose, I am not a homosexual! you know that!  
TT: Heehee.  
TT: There are quite a few menus on the screen.  
TT: I will try a few of them out, if you don’t mind.  
EB: sure, go ahead.

You hear a crashing sound from your bathroom. 

TT: Oh, shit.  
TT: I’m sorry.  
EB: what happened???  
TT: I ripped your bathtub out of the floor.  
TT: Sorry again.  
TT: These controls have no precision…  
EB: aw, it’s fine.  
EB: dad’s gonna be pissed though.  
EB: i think…  
EB: i mean, his bathtub is destroyed now, right?  
TT: No, it’s totally intact.  
TT: It has just been ripped out of the ground.  
EB: can you put it back?  
TT: I shall try.

You hear another crashing sound. 

TT: I have had… some small amount of success.  
TT: It is back in the ground, at the very least.  
TT: But… it may fall through the ground.  
TT: I feel like it may be best to keep it out of the ground, for now.  
TT: Perhaps there will be a way to fix it later.  
EB: well, okay…  
EB: so, can you do anything besides move stuff around?  
TT: I am not sure…

Your magic chest is lifted up. After a few seconds, it floats through the roof. 

EB: TT is my magic chest on the roof now?  
TT: Crap, sorry.  
TT: Still had the move option selected.  
TT: I will get it back, later.  
TT: There seems to be a build option, as well as some machines to place down.  
TT: Which should I try?  
EB: build first.  
EB: maybe you can make a new room or something?  
TT: Yes, that would seem to be possible.  
TT: Perhaps I can make a room for the machines?

Soon after she says that, a platform appears, jutting out from the side of your room. You walk over to examine it. A few seconds later, a machine with sharp blades and a few rectangular slots is placed. You jump back fearfully. The machine doesn’t seem dangerous, per se, but those blades are kinda intimidating! 

EB: TT what is that?  
TT: It’s something called a “Totem Lathe.”  
TT: The walkthroughs are unclear as to it’s purpose.  
TT: They are very badly written, I’m having a hard time discerning anything.  
EB: well maybe you should just make one of your own!  
TT: Hmm…  
TT: Yes, maybe so.  
TT: I shall give it some consideration.  
EB: i’ll help you out if you do!  
EB: give you some inside perspective and what-not!  
TT: Yes, to be sure.  
TT: There are two more machines that can be placed.  
TT: Shall I do so?  
EB: yeah, go ahead.

She places the Cruxtruder in a spot that appears perfect, a spot that she doesn’t realize is your doorway. She places the Alchemiter on your balcony. The pre-punched card is balanced gently on your head. 

TT: All of the machines have been placed.  
TT: Perhaps you should do something with them?  
TT: I would say you attempt to turn the crank on the tube one first.  
EB: huh.  
EB: okay, i’ll try that!

You walk downstairs, looking for the tube machine. After a few seconds, you see the huge tube-like machine. It’s blocking the front door! You grab your dad’s PDA from the table and message TT. 

EB: you blocked the door! D:  
TT: Oh?  
TT: I thought it was a perfectly shaped alcove.  
TT: I did not realize there was a door there.  


You sigh and turn the crank. Something pushes against the lid, but the lid itself doesn’t budge. You try to crank harder, but it still doesn’t budge. You pull out your hammer and smack the lid a few times. Sadly, the lid still only moves a little. You move back, and look for something heavier to throw. After a minute or two of pacing your living room, you notice a long handle in the laundry room. You move in to investigate, and find a sledgehammer! Fuck yeah, this’ll totally show that cap who’s boss! You move back over to the Cruxtruder, dragging the sledgehammer behind you. However, you notice as you attempt to swing the hammer that there is a small problem here. You can’t, exactly, swing this hammer as of right now. You can’t even get it more than six inches off the ground. Now, you passed P.E and you’re not weak, but this thing is massively heavy! Suddenly, after a few minutes of struggling, the sledgehammer’s head begins to levitate! You almost flip out, before you remember that TT can move stuff. It probably isnt some sort of ghost haunting your house. TT brings the sledgehammer to the top, and you finish the job, swinging it downwards with gravity to knock the cap off! As the cap goes flying, a light blue ball of light appears. A clock on the side of the thing turns on, reading ‘4:13.’ You don’t particularly want to know. You attempt to turn the crank, now that the lid has been removed. A blue cruxite dowel pops up. You captchalogue it, hitting the clown doll sitting on your couch with cake. You’re about to run back upstairs to do something with this thing, when you glance over at the clown doll again. You place your fake arms onto it, using the cake as glue. Score. You guess Sassacre was right, this is way funnier. 

Alright, no more joking around! You don’t notice the clown doll get thrown into the ball, losing one of it’s arms in the process. You run into your room, looking at the machine in here first. It has a spot that looks perfect for a blue cylinder. You decide to place the cylinder in. You notice a card slot next to it, where you place the punched card. The totem is carved into some squiggly monstrosity. You ignore the fact that TT has gone offline for some mysterious reason, moving to the balcony to find the final machine. Unsure what to do, you just kinda stand on the machine for a minute, looking at the meteor that is now barreling towards your house. You hop off the machine, frantically trying to figure out what to do, when you notice the small pedestal off to the side. You look down at the totem. You place the totem onto the pedestal, and watch as a tree sprouts, dropping an apple into your hands. You look up at the meteor, down at the apple, and without further ado, you take a bite. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all, it's gonna be a few more days. Finals and all. I'm workin' hard here!


	2. Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the long hiatus, and sorry for the short chapter. I don't think you want nor need a sorrowful explanation of my life, but needless to say I've been having a rough time of it. Hopefully the updates will speed up, and be longer after this!

A young lady sits in a messy bedroom, writing some sort of lame game review. She doesn’t have enough patience to indulge any sort of name gag right now, so she just decides to tell you her name and give a brief introduction. She has more pressing matters to attend to, like her spotty internet.

Your name is ROSE LALONDE. Your house is currently BRIGHTLY LIT, and powered with ELECTRICITY, which you are sure will never go away. You have a LAPTOP COMPUTER, currently plugged into the wall even though it has full battery. You have a wide variety of interests. For example, you like OBSCURE LITERATURE, particularly about MONSTERS of a DUBIOUS NATURE. H.P. LOVECRAFT comes to mind. You enjoy writing, although nobody besides your BEST PAL knows about that. You have a few GUILTY PLEASURE MOVIES hidden under your bed, one of which is LITTLE MONSTERS. You have KNITTING SET, proudly displayed on your desk next to your computer. Your room is kinda messy, but you like to think of it more as… chaotically organized. When the fancy strikes you, you do enjoy playing video games with your friends. In fact, you think you might do that right no-the power went out.

Guess Mom was right about all that jinxing stuff. Perhaps she turned it off just to passive-aggressively make you come downstairs and indulge her mind games? Well, your laptop works on battery power, so it isn’t too big of a deal. However, you’re pretty sure that the power going out would also cause the oh-so-valuable wireless internet to go down. Maybe you can bum a signal from one of your neighbors? At least long enough to let John know that you are having power troubles. You captchalogue your laptop, in the cozy that John so generously sent you with your knitting kit, and open the door silently. You look down the hallway suspiciously. Lighting flashes outside the distant window, because of course it does. You begin sliding down the hallway quietly. Eventually, you reach the hallway that leads towards your mothers room. You glance down quickly. When you see your mother’s door, still closed, you perform a perfect youth roll, getting to the other side of the hallway quickly. You look back down the hall, as a convenient lightning strike illuminates the hallway. Nothing. Huh, you thought she’d do some kinda dramatic silhouette thing. Well, best not to look a gift pony in the mouth, you suppose. You move onwards, towards the observatory. As soon as you enter, you put down your grimoire of the zoologically dubious, your disc case of Little Monsters(no disc inside, it’s just a keepsake), and your laptop. You need all the elevation you can get. You click the wifi option, scrolling through the many hundreds of wifi networks, before you notice something strange. One of the wifi networks, LAB-413, is unlocked. How convenient for you. It is strange that some weird high tech lab would leave their wifi unlocked for anyone to use, but whatever. All the better for you in the end. You connect to it quickly.

\--tentacleTherapist [TT] has begun pestering ectoBiologist [EB]--

TT: Johnathan.   
TT: Jonathan are you there?   
EB: yeah i’m here   
EB: what the hell just happened?   
EB: i’m in a different place now!   
EB: i’m ever so slightly flipping my shit Rose   
TT: Please relax John.   
TT: I would suggest deep breaths, those are a good way of centering yourself.   


After a few seconds, John can be seen breathing deeply through his nose on the screen.

TT: Good, that’s good.   
TT: I’m here for you.   
EB: yeah, thanks.   
EB: so what did you need?   
TT: I just wanted to let you know that we are in the midst of a terrible storm here, so my responses to messages may become…   
TT: unreliable.   
TT: Wireless connection and power tends to be the first things to go in these kinds of things.   
EB: oh jeez!   
EB: well, be safe, okay?   
TT: Yes, I was planning to.    
TT: Your concern is appreciated, John.   
EB: :B   
EB: i worry about you sometimes, ya know?   
EB: you always seem so unflappable!   
TT: Should that not assuade your concerns?   
EB: no, it makes ‘em worse.   
EB: bye rose!   
EB: i’m gonna go explore, so talk to you soon!   
TT: Yes, of course.   


\--ectoBiologist [EB] has ceased being pestered by tentacleTherapist [TT]--

Suddenly, conveniently, the lights in the observatory begin to flicker. You look around, rolling your eyes at the dramatic staging of the scenario. Of course the power would go out as soon as you’re done talking to John! If you didn’t know better, you’d think your Mom did it, but how would your Mom even know you were done messaging? Cameras or something? Eh, that’s too actively aggressive for her taste. Must just be a strange (and dramatic) coincidence, you guess, shifting your eyes around the room suspiciously.You glance out the large window distastefully. Meteors crash in the forests around your house, causing fires to spring up throughout the trees, but that’s not what has drawn your ire. Your current destination, however, has thoroughly gotten your goat. That most horrendous of installations in your yard; Jasper’s Mausoleum. Sadly, it’s your last resort at this point. If the observatory’s power has gone out, so has the rest of the house. You stand up, captchaloguing your grimoire, then your laptop, and finally your disk case. You move towards the exit, not particularly wanting to deal with any shenanigans tonight. The door opens quietly, swinging out into the darkened hallway. It’s much more unsettling now, your visibility lowered by the darkness. You step out into the embrace of the unknown. Well, not really unknown, just slightly obscured. Why do you ruin your own poetic descriptions? You file that away to psychoanalyze later. You pad forward through the hall, quickly reaching the fork in the road. You roll past it instead of walking, just in case. Your mother’s drama can grow a bit oppressive, so wasting a few seconds for peace of mind is worth it. You walk past your room briskly, focusing your eyes ahead down the stairs, directly on the hideous giant wizard statue looming in your room.

You stare the wizard down as you walk, locking yourself in some strange territorial contest with the fixture. It doesn’t blink. Figures. You look away after a few more seconds of glaring as you walk down the stairs. You step into your darkened living room, and immediately notice the liquor bottles out on the kitchen counter. Your mother is afoot. You sigh. Normally, engaging her in the passive-aggressive arts is a mildly enjoyable experience, but you are not particularly in the proper mood for it tonight. You decide going out the front door, though tedious, may be the better choice. You don’t want to risk engaging your mother in her home territory. You creep towards the door, taking slow steps to minimize your noise level, when you hear it. The infernal sloshing. She’s pulling her ironic housewife shtick again! She broke the mop out! This woman is too good! You’re about to make a quick escape, when you glance over and cringe. This gives her all the time she needs to approach you. Damn and blast! You’ve been locked into a STRIFE!!!

>>STRIFE!!!

You draw your needles. They’ve been allocated to your specibus already. You attempt to stab your mother with them, a move you both knew would never come to fruition. She moves away easily, still holding her infernal martini. You turn and survey your surroundings. You see a plug socket! The perfect thing for this! You hold your needles up to it and shout, “I’ll do it!” Your mom seems worried, until she realises the power’s off. You sigh. Those were essentially your two only moves. I mean, come on! You’re not gonna kill your mother! She finishes her drink.

“Rosie cm herr grl!” She slurs at you, “I gots a big present! You liek present, riiiight?” She hiccups at the end. You sigh. Could she just be a little less drunk? “What is it mother?” You query politely. “Rosie,” She says, “You urnt gunna believe dis Rosie. I gots……. A PONY~~!” She waves her hands dramatically and open a door. You swear to all the great horrorterrors of the furthest ring if a pony walks in- yep, there’s a pony trotting into your house. It doesn’t have a single droplet of water or the tiniest of scratches on its body. Its fur is pristine and white, and it has a pink heart shaped marking on its back left flank. You can’t be entirely sure if your mother painted it on there, or if somehow, this horse naturally has a heart shaped pink mark on its leg. You decide not to contemplate it. Your mother looks at you, childish wonderment in your eyes. You glare at the pony. It whinnies. You sigh, and succumb to your basest of instincts, patting the beast on its snout. Even you must admit, it is a very cute pony. You give it a few more pats, and a reluctant forehead to forehead nuzzle. Your mother claps happily.

“I wuv you Rosie.” She says, ruffling your hair. You grumble. It took you ten minutes to do that hair! You don’t tell her so though. You let her ruffle your hair. For five seconds. That is your allotted Mother-Daughter bonding limit on activities like this. You push her hand off your hair at that point, attempting to flatten your hair back down. She smiles brightly, patting your shoulder and walking off, returning to her ironic mopping thing. That woman is so confusing, you swear.

You step into the mausoleum after turning on the generator outside. The meteor strikes in the forests near your house are becoming more frequent, which is quite worrying. You’re not particularly keen on being crushed by flaming meteors personally. You plug your laptop into the generator, reopening it. John is still on the screen, milling about in his room. You notice something float through the wall behind him, before quickly leaving as John spins around. Very strange, very strange indeed. You take a screenshot as it passes through the wall, capturing half of its ethereal body. You then take another screenshot of John’s room, capturing his vandalized movie posters. You take a few other screenshots, showing the various machines and what-not, when you notice something; John’s father is nowhere to be found, and a strange trail of oil leads out of his house. Equally strange, a few pitch black creatures are milling about, generally being a nuisance. You are fairly sure they weren’t there before.

\--tentacleTherapist [TT] has begun pestering ectoBiologist [EB]

TT: John.   
TT: Some strange creatures are in your house, John.   


You watch John totally ignore the message beep, in favor of freaking out over the blue slime on his wall.

TT: John, get a hold of yourself.   


No response. You sigh. It’s probably for the best, of course. You do have your own problems to deal with, escaping the meteor crisis being your current top priority on that front. You hear a beep. Someone is messaging you. Perhaps some ironic douchebag, finally willing to play the game? You open pesterchum.

\--gardenGnostic [GG] has begun pestering tentacleTherapist [TT]--

GG: hi rose!!!!!   
GG: congratulations on getting into the game!   
TT: I have not entered yet.   
GG: oh… D:   
GG: well, hopefully you will soon so this can be relevant!   
TT: Yes, well, I am attempting to coerce TG into acting as my server player, so that I may enter the game.   
GG: yeah! do that!   
TT: Is he online currently?   
GG: yeah! we were just chatting! :DD   
TT: Yes, that is what I expected.   
TT: Seems to be that guy’s perpetual state of being.   
GG: he likes bouncing ideas off of me! D:   
TT: It wasn’t a criticism.   
TT: Let him know I’m coming?   
GG: sure!   


\--tentacleTherapist [TT] has ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG]--

Rose sighs. Time to pester the coolkid. That’s always quite the ordeal. As fun as verbal fencing can be, you’d rather get this done quickly.

\--tentacleTherapist [TT] has begun pestering turntechGodhead [TG]--

TT: TG.   
TT: I’m aware you are there, GG told me you were conversing.   
TT: Spare me the typical antics, this matter is important.   
TG: yeah sure rose   
TG: wassup   
TG: what can i help you with   
TG: is it about the newest sbahj   
TG: i’m trying something new, overarching storyline where bro kills jeff on accident and uses a time machine(built by geromy) to get him back   
TG: or something, kinda winging it   
TT: That sounds absurd and contrived, TG.   
TT: How could a best friend kill another best friend?   
TT: Also, where did Geromy acquire this time machine.   
TG: well i figured bro would like, activate some kinda super-shit mode   
TG: the graphics would get even worse, and he’d corrupt jeff on accident or some shit   
TG: and the time machine was always inside geromy   
TG: jesus rose are you an amateur   
TT: My apologies.   
TT: If you don’t mind, I had a favor I needed to ask?   
TG: yeah shoot   
TT: I require your help.   
TG: with   
TT: SBURB.   
TG: aw fuck not that lame-ass game   
TT: It is imperative to my survival.   
TG: well i cant really do it anyways   
TT: And why would that be, exactly?   
TG: lost my copy   
TT: How?   
TG: nevermind that   
TG: all that matters is i can’t   
TT: There are no other copies in your home? You’re a well connected young man, surely you can find another.   
TG: my bro has a copy   
TG: but he’s not just gonna let me have them   
TT: Why is that?   
TT: Besides, why don’t you just take them?   
TT: What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.   
TG: ugh i guess i could try   
TG: dont get your hopes up though   
TG: his room is constantly guarded   
TT: By the absolute repulsion you feel, realizing you are walking into the quarters of a white ventriloquist rapper?   
TG: no dude   
TG: that shit is totally cool   
TG: his ironic rapper thing is totally cool, that’s really all there is to say on the matter   
TT: Whatever you say.   
TT: Notify me when you get the game.   


\--tentacleTherapist [TT] has ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG]--

Okay so, here’s the deal. There’s this guy. He’s really cool. He’s a really cool guy. He’s just standing around, ya know? Chilling. As really cool guys are known to do. Now, you might think he won’t tell you his name. Not so. This guy is way too cool for any sort of arbitrary standards of coolness, and he doesn’t have time for any ensuing shenanigans. He’ll tell you now, and then we can get on with the story, yeah?

Your name is DAVE STRIDER. It is a very, very hot APRIL DAY. The worst type of April day. You could make a PUN about being COOL, but you won’t. You’ve got a few STANDING FANS, and they are CRANKED the fuck to 11. Pretty much as cranked as your FLY BEATZ, which you spin out from those turntables back there. You like UNKNOWN BANDS, but don’t feel the need to shove your interests on others. You also like COLLECTING DEAD THINGS, as a bit of a side hobby. You run a variety of IRONIC BLOGS AND WEBSITES, and make an IRONIC WEBCOMIC called SWEET BRO AND HELLA JEFF. And you guess you’re supposed to play a game? Well, you’re great at games. You close your current work of art, detailed in your recent messages with Rose, and move to your door. You’re great at games. This’ll go well.


End file.
